In This Together
by hollywar
Summary: "We're in this together, buddy."


**A/N- Just to clear things up, the _italic_ writing is Steve's memories, and the normal writing is Steve's thoughts at the moment. This is the first time I've ever written about war, so I could be completely off… and the characters might seem a little off too, but I tried. Feel free to review or PM me your thoughts. Hope you like it!**

**In This Together**

The only words Steve Randle could form together in a sentence, consisted of a chain of curses, as he sat himself down on the muddy foreign ground waiting for the helicopter to come and bring him back to Tulsa. The air was thick of decay; it would take someone's breath away if they weren't already used to it.

_He had looked over at his best friend, and for the first time since Sandy had broken up with him, he wasn't greeted with a contagious grin. _

_The air around surrounding their noses choked them, and it was alarming. It brought tears to Steve's eyes, the first time there had been tears there in awhile. _

"_You'll get used to it, kids," a large man with medals had told them. He laughed at the frightful looks that were coming from two boys who weren't old enough to grow beards yet. "I don't even notice it anymore."_

_He had took in a deep breath, but found himself choking on the same horrid stench. He was almost afraid to ask what it was… but he had an idea. _

"_What is it?" Sodapop Curtis, his best friend since kinder garden, had forced out. Steve looked at him again, and noticed his eyes vaguely reminded him of Soda's younger brothers, Ponyboy's; fear. But he knew Soda was brave; a lot braver than him. He had asked in the first place._

"_Death," the large man had told them, with surprisingly no remorse in his voice. Back then, Steve wasn't sure what emotion had reflected through the guys voice. _

Steve knew what that emotion was now.

_The man who wore army green looked at Soda, and then Steve. His eyes weren't even a colour, Steve had been sure of it. They were just black, and held no form of life. If the guy wasn't standing in front of them, holding their uniforms out to them, Steve was sure he would have found him face down in the mud. _

_Soda took his uniform gently from the man, and passed Steve his. He had been too shocked at what he was seeing to make his arms move. _

He was wearing that same outfit today; as he had been for about a year.

_The sweltering heat made it hard to put on his combats willingly. Steve had stood there and watched Soda put his helmet on his head. His wheat coloured hair wasn't greased, and it was a strange sight. Ever since they were in grade school they both had their hair back in grease. _

"_Common Stevie, it ain't so bad," Soda had tried to reassure him. He nodded, and placed the heavy helmet on his un-greased hair. It was heavy, and it smelled strongly of sweat and mud. Regardless he returned his best friends small grin; but it was forced. _

Soda's grins never used to be forced. He could make any situation good, and it proved to Steve just how brave he really was. It took real courage to smile when there was nothing to smile about.

_The man with the expressionless face leaded them over to a group of men laying around. They all had a scruffy look to them; and not just the typical Greaser scruff Steve was used to seeing. They had mud caked on their hands, and blood smeared their clothes. _

"_This is your platoon. Stay with them." _

_That's the only words of advice were given to the two best friends before he briskly walked back to where we had just come from. Mud already covered a good part of their boots. _

Mud covered all of Steve's boots now, and his hands were caked with the stuff. Blood also smeared his face, and it was splattered onto his combat jacket. The outfit wasn't army green anymore.

"_When do you think we should write home?" Sodapop asked, facing towards Steve. He didn't even want to write home, but he had a feeling Soda would every chance he got. Maybe Steve would write to Darry, too. Because he wasn't sure where Evie and him stood. She had been pretty upset when he told her he enlisted._

"_I don't know," was all the Steve could sputter out. The thick aroma was still playing a toll on his lungs, used to the remotely fresh air of Tulsa. _

Maybe he should have wrote Evie, back then.

_The weight of the helmet was terribly annoying as Steve tried to look up at the sky. It was oddly coloured, and there was a strange dust swirling around the air. His eyes were already drying out from the dirt blowing in them._

_Unconsciously he reached up his hands and took the heavy helmet off his head, revealing his dark locks that were usually greased in complicated swirls. It felt better, but the heat was still scorching. _

_Without warning, a man with filthy hands grabbed him by the scruff of the neck, and pulled the helmet away from his hands. He was bigger than Steve, but if it had been back in Tulsa, he would have punched the bigger guy square in the jaw. _

"_Never take your helmet off," he said with a rough edge to his voice, admittedly scaring Steve a little. The heavy foul-smelling helmet was thrust back onto his head, making Steve feel ten times heavier than he actually was. _

_He looked over to Soda, and his eyes looked just as frightened as Steve felt. _

He lifted his hand to his head, and felt the hard helmet still there. Steve was vaguely sure it had never left his head after that moment; even in his sleep.

"_Steve?" Soda asked as they sat themselves down close next to each other. They didn't know anyone else out here, and no one seemed to be overly accepted with one another. They didn't talk to each other; they didn't even look at each other. _

"_Yeah buddy?" Steve replied, looking out at the men sprawled around the muddy ground, their eyes open, but not looking at anything. He wondered if they were thinking about back home like he was._

"_We'll be okay," Soda had said to him, firmly putting his arm around Steve in a brotherly embrace. He flashed his usual Sodapop Curtis grin, the one that had all the girls swooning back home. It was almost impossible to give one back, but Steve forced himself to. "We're in this together, buddy."_

_It sent Soda some ease, and he could tell he was at peace for the moment. But Steve's mind was still racing; because Soda's statement sounded like he was trying to convince himself, just as much as Steve. _

Those famous words that Sodapop told him was etched into his mind forever. No matter where he turned, they were always haunting him.

_It had been hours later, Steve was sure of it, when a shot rang throughout the small area they were sitting in. He sucked in his breath as he felt Soda's body tense next to him, revealing he wasn't just hearing things. _

"_Move out!" The same guy who had thrown Steve's helmet back on yelled, standing up. The men followed his instructions and ran towards the gun fire. Steve watched helplessly, and then was brought back as he was hit on the back with a rough smack. _

_At first he thought it had been Soda, but it wasn't. It was the guy who was holding out a wooden gun to him, motioning for him to take it, and get moving. He took it, and looked over at Soda. His best friend was looking at the thing as if he never saw one before, and he doubted that he had. _

The same wooden gun laid beside him now, mocking him.

"_Move it, now!" The big guy told them, and they ran together. The heavy helmet was making it hard to look where it was going. _

_They seen people laying unmoving on the ground, and it was like they were both thrown head first into the brick wall of reality. And it hurt, too. _

A year later, and the brick wall still hurt.

_They both dove for a bush, and caught their breaths momentarily. The look of pure terror was settled across both of their young faces, and they knew each other's thoughts. _

_With one final breath, Soda grinned thoughtfully. "We're in this together, buddy."_

_Steve nodded, unable to find words in his jumbled mind. The scenes that were unfolding around him was enough to drive someone to insanity. _

_He watched as Soda picked up his gun, and looked at it. The days of playing cobs and robbers filtered through Steve's mind, and it was slightly pathetic. He wished he could go back to those days. He even shut his eyes in hope, but he was still hiding in the bush with Soda when he opened them. _

The amount of times he wished he could go back to the times of cops and robber was ungodly.

_Soda levelled the gun to his shoulder, and looked out of the sight. Steve could see him squint his eyes in concentration, and take a deep breath. _

"_So I guess you just," was all he said before he pulled the trigger. Steve guessed that's all you had to do, and figured that's what Soda was going to ask. _

_He seen the look of horror that passed through Soda's entire body, and looked to where he shot. He looked just in time to see a body crumble to the muddy ground, and then looked down. It seemed all too surreal. Sodapop Curtis, his best friend, could hardly squish a bug without feeling guilty. _

_Steve placed his arm around his friend, trying to give him a sort of comfort; but it wasn't enough. He felt Soda's body rack with muffled sobs, and it took everything Steve had to not cry along with him._

Jesus, it was hard not to cry back then; and it hadn't gotten any easier.

"_It's okay Sodapop," Steve heard himself explain to his friend. It was strange; because it didn't sound like his voice, and he couldn't remember moving his lips to talk. It sounded as if he was hearing someone else talk, from his own body._

_He nodded, and Steve wasn't quite sure what else to say in comfort. They were in war; they were bound to have to kill people. The realization didn't make it easier. _

"_We're in this together, Soda. Stay strong, buddy," was the last words Steve told him as he took his arm from around his shoulder. Soda nodded, and picked his gun up again. They were in this together, and they needed to be strong for each other. _

Dammit, they had been strong. What happened?

_They trudged back into the same small place they had been sitting before the round of gun shots fired days ago. The pair looked less at peace with themselves as they sat down beside each other this time around. _

_Men around them sat down, the same faces that they had seen before. They were a few men short, but nobody seemed to notice. They had only been here a few days, but they shortly realized death wasn't an uncommon thing. _

_Their hands were caked with the brown mud, and their faces were drenched with sweat, smeared with blood. They looked exactly like the others had looked like when they first walked over. _

They had become just like them.

_Soda looked at him without his usual grin, and they shared eye contact. The first emotion that they had let shine through for days showed through, and it was soul eating. The look of pure hatred mirror back into Steve's eyes, and he felt useless. Sodapop should have never felt like this; he was too much of a happy guy. He had every right to be happy; he deserved it._

Steve remembered never seeing his grin again until that night.

"_Move out!" The familiar voice sounded as a gun shot rang throughout the horizon once again. The pair had heard the same man say the same thing many times, but it didn't get any easier each time; it got much harder. _

_They nodded towards each other as they took off running, and shortly dove for a bush together. They had been doing the same routine for so long, but nothing stayed the same. It was like the poker games they used to play together back home; anything was possible._

The possibilities were endless; Steve knew all too well.

"_Move it, move it!" _

_It had been the first time their platoon had moved out further into the enemy territory. Steve and Soda looked at each other with frightened looks, but then masked their fear. They were going to be strong; if not for anyone else, they were going to be strong for each other. _

_Tearing off towards gun fires, following closely behind their platoon, they could have gave Ponyboy Curtis a run for his money. They were running way faster than he ever did; or at least it seemed that way. _

Why hadn't they ran faster?

_A shot rang loud, louder than Steve had ever heard before. His eyes widened, and he looked on in horror as Sodapop Curtis, his best friend since he could remember, crumbled to the ground motionless. _

"_No!" Was the only word that Steve could comprehend at the time, as he watched his friend's helmet slip away from his head. _

_His knees buckled and he fell beside his friend. He didn't have a bullet inside him, and he wasn't loosing excessive amounts of blood, but he was sure he looked just as pale as Soda did. _

_He cradled his friend's wheat coloured haired head. The look of pain that was etched on Soda's face was enough to make Steve cry. He let his tears fall down easily; he didn't need to act strong anymore. _

He hadn't need to be strong anymore; not for himself.

"_Soda, you stay with me," Steve's voice sounded strangled, and in more way than one, he felt like he was. The thick sent of decay was still around him, and they weren't the only ones crumbled to the ground. But they _were_ the only ones who were together. Everyone else was scattered around alone; Steve couldn't imagine dying alone._

He didn't care if he had died at that moment; he couldn't let Soda die alone.

"_Hey Stevie," Soda struggled to breath, and Steve was close to hyperventilating. There was only a few weeks left for them to be here, and then they could go home. Why was this happening now? Steve pushed his hand hard down on Soda's chest, were the thick, dark liquid oozed out. _

"_Soda…" Steve said, looking at his friends eyelids fluttering. "Soda, you stay awake!" He gave his friend's slouching body a violent shake in attempt to make him stay with him._

"_Stevie…" Soda struggled to speak again, and all the noise around them faded away. No gun shots could be heard, and the cries for help was suddenly gone. Soda grinned as if something was funny, and looked at Steve in a hazy way, "We're in this together… buddy."_

_Steve felt all of his friend's weight go into his own body, and he violent shook him again, "Soda, don't you say your goodbyes!"_

It had all been too late. His best friend died in his arms, and it was all too late; because it was over. His time was over, and he was heading back home. He was heading back home to where all their friends and family were, to where they were originally from; alone.

"Hey kid," a voice said, bringing him away from his thoughts. Steve looked up and seen a guy walk towards him. He stood, barely able to feel anything.

Face to face with the man, he recognized him as the same guy who brought him and Soda to their platoon that day they first arrived. The day the stench of death choked them. "Hey."

His dark emotionless eyes mirrored Steve's, and he now knew the emotion he hadn't back at the first of the year; emptiness.

He looked around Steve, and frowned at the fact he was much more alone than he had been a year ago. "You can't have friends in war; it's dangerous."

Steve had learned that the hard way.

"_We're in this together, buddy."_

**Thanks for reading, and please leave your thoughts in a review!**


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